


Garter Belts and Thigh-High Stockings

by ibreathethroughwords



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: New Republic Era - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Dialogue, Disguise, Doggy Style, First Time Blow Jobs, Forced Crossdressing, M/M, Military Kink, Missionary Position, Morning Sex, Post-Bilbringi AU, Semi-Slow Burn, Sex while in disguises, Shower Sex (Implied), Sort of plot, Spooning Sex, Teasing, Thrawn abusing his authority to make others wear lingerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1899741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibreathethroughwords/pseuds/ibreathethroughwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you questioning my taste?”</p><p>“I'm questioning your taste in underwear.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their cover story was that they were a married couple, on vacation to attend an art auction. Of course art had to be involved with Thrawn around, but Pellaeon wasn't nearly as happy about it as his superior officer. Last time art had been involved it hadn't gone nearly so well, and Pellaeon badly didn't want to be dragged into a firefight. Sure, he could handle himself fine with a blaster, but that didn't mean he wanted to. Pellaeon hadn't lived this long to die on some financial and arts center crossdressing as a woman while clinging to his commanding officer's arm just because a certain blue-skinned somebody clearly either had trust issues or a real love for getting off his flagship and into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [anaveryisme](http://anaveryisme.tumblr.com), who requested crossdressing kink and patiently waited as this spiraled the fuck out of control into a 15k+ words nightmare that I'm just going to post all of tonight. Porn starts roughly around chapter 3 so just hang tight.

This whole thing was a stupid, stupid, _stupid_ idea, and he'd somehow ended up being dragged along on it because Thrawn needed somebody to go with him that he trusted implicitly who matched the locals' aesthetic of proper, feminine beauty. Pellaeon, clean-shaven, was about the average height for a Human female, and wasn't overly muscular, being a typical career officer. His smaller build and coloring made him perfect for this mission, Thrawn assured him, and Pellaeon absolutely hadn't believed him at all. That was a bold-faced lie, and they both knew it, but Pellaeon still hadn't been given a choice. Apparently this was a mission that absolutely could not be left to underlings, and he'd been ordered to go along with it before Pellaeon really knew what he was agreeing to do. 

Thrawn hadn't told him any of that until they had left hyperspace and were awaiting permission from local ground control to land. At least the local women didn't often wear dresses or heeled shoes, he grumbled to himself as he let the Intelligence officer disguise him on the shuttle before they were to disembark. Thrawn had pulled him aside to tell him, privately, what needed to be done. For someone who had lived in the Unknown Regions for the better part of his life, the man had a weird knack for handling the Corellian brand of anger, and had somehow managed to calm Pellaeon down and convince him to follow orders without breaking a sweat. 

Thrawn's disguise was much better than his own, if more than a little weird. Pellaeon hadn't thought there was anything in the world that could cover up those glowing eyes, but Intelligence had managed to find a lens producer that could do custom eye inserts, and so Thrawn now had, apparently, green eyes that just seemed faintly brighter than they should have which had the effect of being somehow more unnerving and intimidating than his glowing red eyes. To go with the look, he now had completely black hair and eyebrows, and his skin had been dyed to a tan color that reminded Pellaeon of milk in coffee. His clothing consisted of tight-fitting, fine materials in earthy colors that set off the hues of his skin in just the right way to remove any doubts that it wasn't natural. Pellaeon wouldn't have recognized him were it not for that aura of authority he gave off and that he had been nearby before and after the color change.

Their cover story was that they were a married couple, on vacation to attend an art auction. Of course art had to be involved with Thrawn around, but Pellaeon wasn't nearly as happy about it as his superior officer. Last time art had been involved it hadn't gone nearly so well, and Pellaeon badly didn't want to be dragged into a firefight. Sure, he could handle himself fine with a blaster, but that didn't mean he wanted to. Pellaeon hadn't lived this long to die on some financial and arts center crossdressing as a woman while clinging to his commanding officer's arm just because a certain blue-skinned somebody clearly either had trust issues or a real love for getting off his flagship and into trouble.

Captain Niriz _had_ warned him.

Pellaeon kept himself still, letting the Intelligence agent that would be acting as one of their bodyguards finish what she was doing. He hated the clothes, hated the wig, hated the makeup, and honestly just wanted his uniform and private office back. It didn't matter that the clothes Thrawn had picked out and purchased were incredibly comforting and flattering, or that the undergarments were a surprisingly nice fit (if a little too lacy and feminine for his taste), or that the Intelligence agent knew what she was doing and he actually didn't look half bad.

He liked this one. She'd noticed his discomfort and had boldly kicked Grand Admiral Thrawn out of the room, shooing him away and silencing every single one of his arguments with a glare that had apparently been extremely convincing. Lieutenant Ral was definitely a mother, and when he'd asked she'd happily chatted away about her two sons who were attending the Academy, where her husband was an instructor. Whoever had trained her to put her targets at ease had done a brilliant job, and he was much calmer by the time she finished.

That didn't mean he hadn't made a vow of revenge on the Grand Admiral, but he was much calmer now about thinking through various plans.

When she stepped away, she let him look in the mirror, watching quietly as he took in the view presented to him. Pellaeon didn't look like a man at all anymore – he barely even recognized himself. He blinked in surprise, and turned to look at her a little wide-eyed. She hid a smile at his reaction, but looked pretty pleased with herself. “If you're ready, Captain, I'll go let Grand Admiral Thrawn back in so he can see if it's what he asked for.”

Pellaeon dismissed her with a wave, and went back to staring in the mirror. She'd put a wig on him that was short and brown – typical Corellian brown – and the ends of it curled slightly just under his ears and chin. It was cut asymmetrically in the front and much shorter in the back, and she'd tucked the long bangs behind his left ear and secured it with a clip that looked like it must have cost at least one year's salary. The makeup was subtle: she'd done so well he couldn't even really tell he was wearing any by looking at it, except around his eyes. 

He was still looking at his reflection in shock when she let Thrawn back into the room to critique or approve her work. Their eyes locked in the mirror, and Pellaeon saw Thrawn's jaw drop slightly before he collected himself again. His eyes – and it was still so strange that the glowing red wasn't visible – slid up and down Pellaeon's body, and he caught them lingering on his backside for a moment. Was Thrawn wondering if he'd followed his instructions to the letter? He barely managed to not blush at the thought. 

“Turn,” Thrawn ordered, and Pellaeon obeyed. It was harder to look at him face-to-face this way, and he averted his eyes to avoid it. “You've done well, Lieutenant,” he praised. “You're dismissed. Go change.” 

“Yes, sir,” she said, practically beaming, and left them alone. Thrawn didn't move from where he was standing a little less than a meter in front of him, and he lifted Pellaeon's chin up to look at him.

It was so hard to meet his gaze, but Pellaeon forced himself to do it. “You'll be all right,” he soothed. “I'll be right beside you for most of the time we're in the public eye.”

“It's a little... disconcerting,” he admitted. 

Thrawn gave him an understanding look and turned him around to face the mirror. He put his hands on Pellaeon's hips and stepped up behind him. Initially, Pellaeon stiffened at the touch, but when Thrawn did nothing further, he relaxed. “We need to get comfortable with this before we disembark. I keep jumping every time I pass a reflective surface and it's going to be difficult for either of us to touch the other when we're both nervous about our appearances. We're both pretending to be someone we're not.”

“You're not on the bottom end of this planet's social ladder,” Pellaeon grumbled, meeting his eye in the mirror. 

“No, I'm not,” he agreed, and gently guided Pellaeon to rest back against him as his hands moved to adjust bits of their clothing just slightly, “and I apologize for that.”

Thrawn turned him slightly to adjust the long vest that went over the top layer of shirts Pellaeon was wearing. “I would like you to try to bear in mind that I chose you for this because I trust you. I trust you to trust me, and I trust you to make the right decisions should this deal go badly. More importantly, given that this gala is limited only to couples, I felt it important to choose somebody who is comfortable in my personal space, and whose personal space I am used to invading. We spend a lot of time leaning over each others' shoulders, and you are not afraid of me. I can't say that for anyone else in the Fleet.” 

Pellaeon sighed softly and let his jacket be rearranged. “I understand your reasons, but this still makes me nervous. It's been a long time since I've even though about a steady relationship, let alone been in one, and I'm still uncertain how you expect me to behave with you in this situation.”

Thrawn finished adjusting the jacket to his liking, and let his hands drift back down to take Pellaeon's. “Which is why I specifically set aside time with you the last few days to discuss their culture. We'll have time when we get to the hotel to go over everything one final time. For now, you'll hang on my arm, stay silent, and keep your head down.” Thrawn gave him a small smile. “I realize it goes against your natural Corellian instinct to be loud, stubborn, and curious, but I have faith in you.”

Pellaeon rolled his eyes at that, but was easily distracted by Thrawn's hands exploring his own. “Yes, sir,” he said, and did his best to wipe the sulk off his face.

“Better,” Thrawn said. Pellaeon turned when he stepped away, and Thrawn offered his arm. “Shall we?”

With nothing else for it, Pellaeon sighed and took the offered arm. Might as well get it over with.

– – – 

The trip to the hotel and the check-in had been nothing short of horrifying for Pellaeon, even with Thrawn right there to masterfully deflect the attention of anybody who so much as glanced at him. It wasn't until they were safely alone in their small suite that Pellaeon relaxed a little. The curtains were drawn and Intelligence was currently involved in doing a counter-intelligence sweep while they waited by the doorway. When they were given the all-clear, they stepped aside for their people to disappear into their own suite across the hall. It was just the two of them now, at least.

Thrawn sat him on the sofa, fetched them both a glass of water, and sat with him. It was still early in the day, and they had hours before they needed to be anywhere. The Grand Admiral was silent while he waited for Pellaeon's nerves to settle, merely providing silent companionship to his second-in-command. When it was clear that Pellaeon was calm, Thrawn spoke. “You're doing just fine,” he assured Pellaeon in his most soothing tone. It had the effect of making Pellaeon want to hit him more than it made him want to go along with this, but the captain managed to swallow his anger.

“You were trained in the manners of the Old Republic and the Imperial Court, and I know you already know how to dance. The major issue, as far as I'm concerned, is the way you're so startled by my touch.” Thrawn's eyes were practically burning into his face, and Pellaeon looked away again under the pretense of taking another drink. “I worry that the tension might make it rather obvious to some that we are not a couple, or they will suspect we're a couple having problems, which could lose us the respect I'll need to close the deal.”

This whole thing probably violated so many regulations. Why couldn't he have a commander, just once, that felt he too was bound by the rigorous rules and regulations of the Fleet? It was no wonder Thrawn got along so well with the Corellians under his command. In another life, he would have made an excellent pirate or criminal mastermind.

“We can't afford to have our cover compromised,” Thrawn continued. He seemed to sit a little straighter, unusually tense. “Therefore, I propose we practice.”

If he'd had a bad feeling about anything today, it was that. “Practice what?” he asked, giving Thrawn a suspicious look. There were only so many things they could do to get themselves comfortable with all this, and Pellaeon was not going to do anything _indecent_ with his commanding officer, all considerations of attractiveness aside. 

“Nothing too inappropriate,” he placated, holding his hands up defensively, “though I acknowledge that it does break a few more regulations than we've already ignored.”

Pellaeon didn't respond to it aside from a polite (if somewhat grouchy silence) as he waited to see if Thrawn would elaborate.

For once, the Grand Admiral seemed to be in a cooperative mood, and required no prompting to continue. “Just touching. I'm not asking anything sexual from you, Captain. You're simply way too stiff to be taken seriously. People will think we're fighting.”

Having a good, long, loud fight was definitely one of the solutions to this that was on his mind. It had been an excellent tactical decision for Thrawn not to tell him about this until it was too late, because the things he wanted to yell at the man would definitely have gotten him either thrown out of Imperial service minus his retirement pay, or flat-out executed. He hadn't been convinced the touching was necessary until they were out in public to make it to the hotel and he saw the way the other couples behaved here. The females – or males, it was difficult to tell – who were in the more submissive position seemed perfectly content to let themselves be moved and guided by their lovers. Trust seemed to be given completely to the other partner, and they needed only to obey and let themselves be looked upon, which was consistent to the cultural norms Thrawn had been drilling him on in every spare moment for the last four days. It was almost an appealing thought, to be able to just let go like that, but Pellaeon had always been a willful and determined man. 

“What sort?” he asked. Pellaeon was at least willing to acknowledge the necessity of it, even if he refused to enjoy it. 

Thrawn rested an arm over the back of the couch, and motioned with his other hand for the captain to rest against his side. Grumbling under his breath but not daring to disobey his superior, Pellaeon cooperated, tucking himself under Thrawn's arm and carefully resting his head against his shoulder. Slowly, as though afraid he might spook the captain, Thrawn lowered his arm to rest over Pellaeon's shoulder. His hand rested against his hip bone again. Pellaeon stiffened at the touch, but then Thrawn shifted his hand up to rub over his forearm.

“It's just a touch,” he murmured. “It's just me, Captain. I'm not going to do anything to hurt you and I will not permit anybody else to touch you.”

Should he be offended or flattered that Thrawn thought it was the Grand Admiral's permission they needed instead of his own? Remembering where they were cleared that up. The submissive partners here – male, female, or other – were treated as property by their spouses and the law, and touching another person's submissive without permission constituted theft. Thrawn would likely make certain anybody who touched him suffered the full-force of the local law. He sighed and relaxed, feeling at least a little more safe. 

After a few moments of just quietly sitting together, Thrawn reached for Pellaeon's hand, pulled it across to his chest. “You're expected to initiate touch as well, Captain. If it looks one-sided they'll question the legitimacy of our marriage.”

“You do understand that it's very strange to be ordered to touch a superior, Admiral?” Pellaeon asked, unable to keep down all of his irritation anymore. This was certainly untried territory between them.

“I do understand,” Thrawn said, “and I trust you understand that I do not want to have to order you to do this, but I'm not above pulling rank if it means you'll cooperate with me. I trust you, Captain: do you trust me to not overstep your boundaries any more than I must?”

He did, he really did, but it was terribly difficult to get passed his insecurities on this. Fleet regulations had been drilled into him so many times, and fraternization was so very forbidden. “Yes, sir,” he breathed, and let his hand relax in Thrawn's. “I do, it's just difficult to move beyond so many years of experience dictating otherwise.”

Thrawn pressed a kiss to the top of the wig, seemingly testing Pellaeon's boundaries some more. “I know, and I appreciate it. I certainly don't think less of you for this, if you were worried about that.”

“No, I know you don't. You wouldn't give me an order and then give me hell for obeying it.” Thrawn was so much more level-headed and calm than Lord Vader had ever been.

“No, I wouldn't,” he agreed, “from which it follows that if I'm ordering you to touch me...?”

Pellaeon turned his head to look at him. “That you expect me to obey you without fear of being reprimanded for making a mistake.”

Thrawn smiled down at him a little. “Correct. So long as you aren't trying any incredibly inappropriate touches in public, you have nothing to worry about.”

 _'In public'?_ That was certainly an interesting word choice. Pellaeon wondered if it had been intentional or not. “Okay,” he relented. 

“Good. Now.” Thrawn shifted and pulled himself out from under Pellaeon who reluctantly moved to let him stand. A hand was offered to him, and the captain accepted it, letting Thrawn tug him to his feet. The boots the Grand Admiral was wearing added at least an inch and a half onto his height without being obvious about it, and the change in height difference was also slightly disconcerting. Thrawn coached him through moving a little more naturally with him, how to stand against him or hang on his arm, and how to offer his hand in greeting. By the time Lieutenant Ral came knocking to help him get ready for dinner, Pellaeon was feeling much more comfortable with his commanding officer.

The clothing and jewelry Thrawn had selected for dinner were much fancier and looked like they were worth about as much as a small moon. She waited for him to dress, then helped him into the jacket and jewelry. The wig was brushed and adjusted and a new pin was placed into his hair to help hold the wig in place. It clipped into the side, above his ear, and then a small gold band covered in deep blue gems spanned the top of his forehead, the gems dangling onto his skin.

“Where did these even come from?” he murmured, staring at the new one in fascination. Thrawn had chosen to dress him in dark blues and golds for tonight, and the new piece was rather stunning, even to him. 

“I'm not certain,” Lieutenant Ral confessed. “Probably the Grand Admiral's private art collection. I can possibly tell you who designed it, if the maker's mark is on it.” 

He nodded for her to continue, and Lieutenant Ral shifted his hair out of the way. Gingerly, she removed it from the wig and turned it over to look at it. “Wow,” she breathed after a moment. Quietly, carefully, she placed it back in his hair, as though she had just touched something she felt like she shouldn't have. “I don't know where Grand Admiral Thrawn got it, but the creator's mark is Jaforn Tilamn.”

Anybody who had spent any time at the Imperial Court knew that name. He had been one of the Emperor's personal designers, and had been incredibly well-known even before the late Emperor had become his patron. Knowing what he did of Thrawn's relationship with Emperor Palpatine, it had likely been a gift. Pellaeon blinked up at her in surprise. “Jaforn Tilamn?” he repeated quietly, just to make sure he'd heard her correctly.

“Yes, sir,” she answered, then got a hold of herself. “I'm not touching that again until I take it out of your wig, so, why don't you lean back and let me touch up your face?”

He obliged, still feeling a bit numb about the hair piece. Even Tilamn's smaller pieces were worth more money than he'd made in his entire career and would presumably make before retirement. This was decidedly not one of those. He had no idea how much the salary of a Grand Admiral had been under the Emperor, but he almost wished he'd focused less on women and more on his career in his youth. When the young lieutenant opened the box to remove the rest of the jewelry Thrawn wished him to wear, he thought the two of them were going to have a heart attack: they were part of a matching set with the hairpiece. 

Lieutenant Ral finished with him while looking shocked and awed and helped him up. She opened the door to let in the Grand Admiral, and Pellaeon found himself feeling more than a little stunned by the sight of him – possibly because he was still so stunned over the jewelry Thrawn had selected. The clothing he wore was similar in style to the dress uniforms worn by the Fleet officers at official functions, with a few notable differences. The jacket was tailored to accentuate the strength of his build rather than to give a generic and uniform shape to the masses. The high collar brought the attention upward to his eyes, still weirdly green. The jacket stopped at mid-hip and was trimmed in gold, but tastefully so. It buttoned down the front, and flared slightly outward. A half-cloak in the same color scheme was fastened to the collar that came up just a little higher than those on their uniforms. The trousers were tight in just the right way to make Pellaeon's eyes go straight to his crotch, and he averted his eyes slightly, embarrassed. Thrawn wore the trousers tucked into his boots, and had on leather gloves that were also trimmed in gold. 

With his naturally regal bearing and military-perfect posture, Thrawn looked every inch like the kind of fairy tale prince his sisters had always loved as children. He looked Pellaeon over, had the lieutenant correct a few small things, and then dismissed her with a wave of his hand. She left them be, but not before sneaking a look at Thrawn's backside. Could the view really be that–?

Lieutenant Ral had left the door open a crack, and Thrawn turned to close it.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Those were clearly the sort of pants they must consider if they ever revisited the idea of changing the Imperial uniform, but the sight of Thrawn in them might cause more trouble than needed. It had certainly been distracting to him already and he'd only been able to look for a few seconds. The efficiency of the bridge crew and command staff would likely drop by several percentage points.

They were wonderful pants, and Lieutenant Ral was definitely being recommended for a promotion for leaving that door open. Just because he preferred women didn't mean he couldn't appreciate such a wonderful view. It was rare that he was attracted to men, but it had happened once or twice. Thrawn was exotic, yes, but his intelligence and his voice were all that Pellaeon had really been attracted to before right this very second.

Thrawn approached Pellaeon and he tried his best to look as though he had not just been staring hungrily at his commander's backside. Those slacks made him see Thrawn in a whole new light, added another level of attractiveness to the man, and Pellaeon couldn't even bring himself to resist much when Thrawn began moving around him to make slight adjustments here and there until he seemed convinced Pellaeon looked perfect. He reached up to nudge the hairpiece slightly and Pellaeon remembered what, exactly, he was wearing. 

Did that mean the weird underwear was expensive designer clothing as well? Were his balls being hugged by a Star Destroyer's worth of credit? He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Why the hell was that thought a turn-on? They weren't even proper mens' clothing! 

“Are you all right?” Thrawn asked, moving behind him again and adjusting his collar. “You look a little flustered.”

He was, and it was all Grand Admiral Thrawn's fault. Pellaeon resisted the urge to scowl at him. “I'm fine. Just feeling a little overwhelmed.” 

Thrawn's hands settled on his biceps and he studied Pellaeon's face in the mirror with narrowed eyes, trying to read the problem. The touch and the look nearly took his breath away. “It's the jewelry, isn't it?” he asked after a minute. “Lieutenant Ral must have recognized the mark.”

That was fast. It wasn't all of it, but Pellaeon was more comfortable with the half-truth right now than the whole truth. How was he supposed to ask his commander if the lacy lavender panties he'd been made to wear were just as expensive? There wasn't a good way to do it, and Pellaeon honestly wasn't sure what he'd do if the answer turned out to be an affirmation of his suspicion. “Yes,” he said, tone remarkably even for a man flustered about the hypothetical price of the womens' lingerie his commanding officer had insisted he wear. “She did.”

“Tilamn was a close personal friend of mine, and of the Emperor,” Thrawn said. “These were a gift for my promotion to Grand Admiral. They suit you, and they'll provide us the status we need to get in with the right people to find my contact.”

“That's not comforting,” he said, leaning back slightly against Thrawn when pulled. “Just don't tell me how much any of this is worth and I'll be fine.”

Thrawn gave him a smile that looked a little... well... fond. “But then how will you brag to the other submissives if they ask you if it cost a fortune?”

“Of course it cost a fortune. It's Tilamn. You could probably buy your own star system with just what I'm wearing.”

The small scowl he gave Thrawn just got a quiet laugh, so deep and soft Pellaeon barely heard it. Thrawn bent his head to Pellaeon's ear. “You're not entirely wrong,” he murmured. “I could definitely buy a few small planets if I were so inclined.”

Feeling Thrawn's breath ghosting over his ear made Pellaeon shiver slightly. Thrawn moved his hands down to Pellaeon's hips, and Pellaeon rested his hands over Thrawn's, feeling too floored to bother resisting. Hadn't he just said he didn't want to know? 

“Very good,” Thrawn praised. “If your confidence begins to falter, just remember that I'm trusting you with this.” He turned their left hands and stroked his fingers over the bracelet in way that was rather seductive. Pellaeon shivered again, felt his body press backward against Thrawn in response. 

“There is one last thing I need to put on you,” he said, and pulled away with a caress that lingered over the small of Pellaeon's back to reach the box. It was empty, or so Pellaeon thought. Thrawn opened a false bottom, and from within pulled out two rings. He tugged off his glove and slid it onto the middle finger of his right hand, and then tucked the glove up under his left arm. With his left hand he took Pellaeon's hand and slid a beautifully carved and crafted ring onto it. Pellaeon looked up at him, confused. 

Thrawn put his glove back on. “In this culture they wear these rings to signify a married pair.” He gave Pellaeon a secretive smile. “I've had Engineering modify these. They're homing beacons of a sort. One can only be tracked by the other ring. If for some reason we're separated, we can find each other by inserting the ring into the bottom of your comlink – like this.” Thrawn demonstrated, and Pellaeon couldn't help but be impressed.

“Clever,” he complimented.

“Thank you. I needed some way to find you in case an extraction is needed. Do try not to get separated from me. Some of the men here don't care if they're not supposed to touch another person's spouse, and I don't want to have to kill anyone tonight.”

That was almost sweet. It was definitely reassuring. “I'll try to stay on your arm the whole night,” he promised.

“Good,” Thrawn said. “It's time we were going.”

Pellaeon took his arm this time without having to wait for it to be offered, and they left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tried not to think about how utterly fuckable his CO looked right now, or about Thrawn knowing about the lacy panties and garter belt. It was very difficult to not think about it when Thrawn's hands smoothed over his hips, adjusting the fabric of the dress, over his sides, his thighs. When Thrawn's fingertips traced the hem of the panties a little, Pellaeon barely managed to hold in a gasp.

The first night of the gala had been utterly exhausting. Pellaeon had to focus hard on keeping his mouth shut and his eyes averted, and let Thrawn move him around from conversation to conversation, but it had been worth it. A meeting had been arranged for the next afternoon with the man Thrawn was trying to get into contact with, and it had been the jewels with which he had adorned his second-in-command that had made it happen. Thrawn had made a good attempt to ensure Pellaeon got plenty of breaks from the overwhelming company of leering men and their silent, weirdly pliant spouses, whisking him onto the dance floor as needed to keep him from blowing their cover by speaking his mind.

By the time they returned to the hotel they were both tired, Pellaeon to the point of grouchiness, Thrawn to the point that he was quiet and withdrawn. It was late, and their Intelligence agents retired after setting a guard in the sitting room. They followed suit, though Pellaeon spent several minutes washing the makeup off of his face so that he could feel comfortable, and then changed for bed. It was nice to be in comfortable clothing again. There was only one bed in the suite, however, and when Pellaeon finished in the bathroom he curled up on the sofa to let Thrawn have his turn to wash up. He'd be damned if he was going to make the Grand Admiral take the couch, and he found it highly unlikely that Thrawn would be interested in sharing that bed with him.

At least it was a comfortable couch. Pellaeon ignored the watch in the kitchenette as he settled in, glad the suite was warm enough to not need a blanket. Just when he'd been about to fall into a doze, there was the soft touch of a hand on his shoulder. “Captain,” Thrawn murmured to get his attention. Pellaeon heard him crouch down next to the couch, so he rolled over to look at him. A bright light greeted him when he rolled over and Pellaeon had to squint; at least that meant Thrawn wasn't wearing those awful eye inserts anymore. The sight of the glowing red eyes, previously so intimidating, were comforting now.

“Sir?” he asked sleepily.

“You're not sleeping on the couch,” Thrawn said quietly. “If there are intruders tonight, they need to see us sharing a bed.”

Pellaeon looked at him in the dark for a minute, squinting at Thrawn as he tried to comprehend. “You want me to move?” he asked quietly, sleepily. Why bother getting up if he was comfortable?

A soft exhale of laughter was Thrawn's response to the question. “Yes,” he replied. “Come on, get up.”

With a grumble, Pellaeon sat up and let Thrawn help him to his feet. He left a hand on the small of Pellaeon's back to guide him along, and moved them into the bedroom. The door slid shut behind them, and he lifted a hand to lock the door and moved to the bed. Pellaeon's mind had finally caught up to the situation, and he warily approached the opposite side of the bed. Thrawn pulled back the blankets and slid into the bed, and turned to look expectantly at Pellaeon.

“I'm not going to bite,” he said. “Come here, Captain, that's an order.”

Annoyed at being ordered to move when he was comfortable, and more annoyed at literally being ordered into bed with his superior, Pellaeon hesitated. This was asking a lot. Thrawn seemed to be equally annoyed, and his eyes narrowed in a glare. That look was rarely shot in his direction, and Pellaeon obeyed then, sliding under the covers with his superior officer. “Sleep,” Thrawn ordered, and rolled over onto his other side. 

Pellaeon rolled to face the opposite way. If this was all he wanted... He closed his eyes, and forced himself to relax enough to fall asleep. With the physical and emotional exhaustion that was wearing on him from the long day, it was no trouble at all to let sleep claim him for the night.

– – – 

For the first time in a long time, Pellaeon woke up to sunlight peeking around the thick curtains and something warm and soft pressed against his back and draped over his waist. He rolled away from the sunlight and buried his face into whatever the soft thing next to him was. It made a noise, but the thing draped over his waist shifted to rub over his back as he drifted back into sleep. 

The second time Pellaeon woke up it was because his pillow was moving, and he blinked his eyes open unwilling and rolled away from it to stretch. When he turned his head, he found Thrawn looking at him sleepily. Pellaeon looked back at him as his mind caught up with the situation and he remembered why he was in bed with Thrawn – who was shirtless and...

Did the skin dye go all the way down?

No, that was not a good thought to have about the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Military. Pellaeon shifted onto his side to look at him more easily. They stared each other down for awhile, and Pellaeon took a moment to study his superior, to see – at least sort of – what he looked like after waking. His hair was a mess, and the skin dye was just... weird. He could see Thrawn's glowing red eyes clearly, and it wasn't exactly difficult to tell that Thrawn wasn't a morning person.

“That dye is just bizarre,” he murmured. He definitely preferred the pale blue skin on Thrawn.

“I hate the wig you have to wear,” Thrawn grumbled back, rolling to face Pellaeon. “Not as much as I hate the dye.”

Pellaeon nodded. “I hate those eye inserts more,” he mumbled. “It's just not you at all.”

Thrawn gave him the tiniest smile, and then rolled onto his back to stretch. “I'm going to shower,” he announced, and slid out of the bed. 

While Thrawn was showering, Pellaeon fell asleep again, only to be woken up by Thrawn – now dry and half-dressed, laying out Pellaeon's clothing for the day. “Time to get up, Captain,” he said. Pellaeon yawned and used the movement as a way to covertly stare at those muscles and that ass. How could anybody be sculpted that perfectly? If he'd been curious about what bedding his commander would be like before this mission, Pellaeon was definitely seriously contemplating it now. Looking that damn good shouldn't be legal.

“Yes, sir,” Pellaeon said. Thrawn handed him the clothing he'd need to wear and ushered him into the bathroom to shower and change. 

Showering had never taken long, and on this mission he used a depilatory cream instead of his preferred razor to remove last night's stubble and other body hair. Once he was clean and dry, he looked at the clothes Thrawn had handed him and turned red with embarrassment at the underwear. He could, he suppose, opt to wear none at all, but what would Thrawn find more strange? There wasn't really a choice, given the clothing he was to wear for the afternoon.

Annoyed, and embarrassingly aroused, Pellaeon pulled on the underwear. It was black lace, definitely impractical, but it made him feel surprisingly confident and powerful. He looked at himself in the mirror and slid his hands over it, over the shape of his cock clearly visible through the lace, and blushed. It looked... good. Maybe Thrawn had known what he was doing in picking these out. With them, there was a black lace garter belt that fit his hips disturbingly well, and sheer black stockings that ended in a matching lace pattern at the top where the clips held them firmly in place over his thighs.

He had to admit, it was an interesting look. Whatever Thrawn's reasons for insisting on this, he was certainly intrigued enough to want to hear them later. Pellaeon pulled on the rest of the clothes, and stepped back out of the bathroom.

The bedroom was empty, so Pellaeon moved into the sitting room. Lieutenant Ral was there, but Thrawn was gone. “Where is everybody?” he asked, accepting food and coffee when it was handed to him. 

“Grand Admiral Thrawn had a lunch meeting with his contact at a lounge that doesn't allow any submissive partners,” she said, making a face. “He took plenty of protection with him, but wasn't anticipating any trouble. Unfortunately, he'd been planning to actually go to the art museum and a few other locations this afternoon, but he won't have time before the auction – so we're staying a bit late tomorrow to do all that. Your orders are to stay here, and in three hours I need to start getting you ready for tonight.”

Pellaeon made a face as he sipped his coffee. “Isn't that a little early?”

Lieutenant Ral shook her head. “The makeup and clothing for such a formal function as tonight is complicated.”

“How complicated?”

She smiled at him, and took a bite of her own breakfast. “Pretty complicated. It'll take awhile. The Grand Admiral has it easy – all he has to do is change and make sure his hair is slicked back properly.”

Lucky him. Pellaeon sighed. There was plenty of work he could catch up on in the meantime. 

He used that three hour time frame to deal with that, and by the time he'd been sent to change and then been carefully covered with a long cloth to keep everything off his... dress... thing... Thrawn had returned. Pellaeon was seated in the kitchenette, where Lieutenant Ral had more room to move around him. They both looked up when Thrawn entered with the agents who had accompanied him.

“How did it go?” Pellaeon asked, taking in the site of him in the tight trousers with a shirt that buttoned down the front and a jacket slung over it.

“Well enough,” Thrawn said, and came to join them in the kitchenette. “Tonight should easily go in our favor.”

He pulled up a chair and sat down to watch the lieutenant work. Pellaeon stiffened a little at the attention, but Thrawn left after awhile to go get himself ready. It was nice to have the quiet company while Lieutenant Ral did her job. When Thrawn reemerged from the bedroom an hour later, he sat on the couch with a datapad to work, and Pellaeon couldn't get a good glimpse of what he was wearing, nor could he see much when Lieutenant Ral ushered him back into the bedroom to help him finished getting dressed. She had done a stunning job with the makeup and hair, and he hated to see her work covered up. The scarf Thrawn had chosen with this particular outfit was sheer, and meant to simply be draped over his head and neck and held in place with elaborate pins.

The jewelry, again was Tilamn, but this time far more elaborate than the last. Tonight they were both wearing black and white, and of course the jewelry matched. The thing that really caught the eye was that the white stones were shot through with bright streaks of red: these were definitely fire diamonds. They were rare, they were expensive, and these weren't tiny stones in the settings on the pieces. Thrawn was showing off now for sure, hopefully to the Empire's personal gain. The “wedding ring” was still on his finger from last night, and the lieutenant left it alone as she decorated the rest of him, and then stood to fetch Thrawn. 

This time Thrawn entered the room alone and closed the door behind him. Pellaeon's jaw dropped a little at the sight of him. He was wearing a long, black silk tunic with silver buttons over black slacks of a fine material. The overcoat was open in the front, and came down in mid-thigh in the front and back. Flared sleeves made his arms look a little longer, and the black and white threads were shot through with silver. The hem was inlaid with silver thread and fire diamonds, and Pellaeon couldn't really take his eyes off of him.

His commanding officer was definitely rich, and also definitely gorgeous – though Pellaeon suspected it would look better with Thrawn's natural appearance.

They took a long moment to just look at each other and take in the details, and Pellaeon was suddenly conscious of the fact that Thrawn knew every stitch of what he was wearing from head to toe – including the underwear. He looked away, hiding a blush, and Thrawn chose that moment to close the distance between them. “You look absolutely astonishing,” he complimented, seemingly breathless from the sight.

“Have you seen yourself?” Pellaeon asked, forcing himself to lift his eyes to Thrawn's face.

Thrawn took his hand and turned Pellaeon to face the mirror. “Yes,” he said simply, and went about the ritual from the previous day of making small, calculated adjustments to their attire. 

Pellaeon let Thrawn do as he pleased, deciding that it was best to just get it over with while he tried not to think about how utterly fuckable his CO looked right now, or about Thrawn knowing about the lacy panties and garter belt. It was very difficult to not think about it when Thrawn's hands smoothed over his hips, adjusting the fabric of the dress, over his sides, his thighs. When Thrawn's fingertips traced the hem of the panties a little, Pellaeon barely managed to hold in a gasp. At least the dress was loose and the underwear tight enough that his growing erection didn't show. He was so uncomfortable in this, yet it made him feel weirdly powerful and sexy. The sensible officer that he knew surely still existed somewhere in him should have been screaming in protest over this, but the much larger part of him that was learning to trust Thrawn so implicitly really wanted to see where this was going.

“Perfect,” Thrawn murmured after a few minutes, and drew Pellaeon close to him again. “You look gorgeous.”

It was a compliment that he thought should have made him angry, but then their eyes met in the mirror again, and he could see the sincerity on Thrawn's face. Whatever Thrawn's reasons for all of this, he clearly meant it, and Pellaeon took it at face value, as much as it confused his own thoughts to do so. “Thank you,” he responded, and broke the eye contact with a slight blush. 

Thrawn used the grip on Pellaeon's hips to turn him around so they could see each other properly. “I'm sure it embarrasses you and offends your sensibilities, but I do mean it. You look stunning.”

“I know you do,” Pellaeon replied, reminding himself to let Thrawn move him as he pleased. “I just feel out of place, out of my own head, in a way.”

A gentle smile made Thrawn look a few years younger, and that was nearly breathtaking. “I imagine so. I appreciate you doing this favor for me, and I intend to reward you well upon our return. This isn't easy for you, but you're going above and beyond your duty for me. That's to be commended.” His hand shifted from Pellaeon's hips to his hands, and the skin-to-skin contact shouldn't have made him feel so warm, but it did.

Maybe it had just been far too long since he'd last gotten laid, and this whole thing was so weird that he was completely thrown off-balance, and that was why he kind of just wanted Thrawn to hang the auction and have him on– 

Pellaeon gave himself a mental kick. 

Thrawn pressed a kiss to the back of his right hand, and then to the “wedding ring”, and there was a look of promise on his face that made Pellaeon's stomach tighten in anticipation and nearly started that thought all over again. “We should be leaving. I'll give you and the Intelligence operatives the briefing on our way over.”

His mouth was dry. All Pellaeon could do was nod his head in answer to that. If that's what Thrawn thought was best. He let himself be handled and escorted out the door to pick up their “guards”, and then down to the vehicle waiting to take them to their destination.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His eyes widened as he realized what Pellaeon meant, and then he further bemused the captain by chuckling softly. “Ah. See, but there's a way around that you seem to be forgetting,” Thrawn informed him. “I'm the highest-ranking authority in the Empire now. That means I make the rules, and I get to alter any regulations I deem stupid, useless, or non-beneficial to our cause.”
> 
> “Are you trying to tell me that you've altered the longest-standing regulation in the Fleet?”

Pellaeon was very glad he had been given the simple tasks of listening and observing, and acting as Thrawn's arm candy, because the man was being so hands-on that it was making it a little difficult to think. It felt like Thrawn had one hand touching him at all times, whether Pellaeon was on his arm, they were dancing, or Thrawn was speaking to one of the other finely attired men. He followed the lead of the other spouses at this incredibly formal gathering and kept his head and eyes down, his mouth shut, and let Thrawn guide him and tend to him.

Tonight, they were to pretend he was simply a very fancy piece of property. If it had been any of the other commanders Pellaeon had had over the years, he would not have been willing at all to give them his trust to this degree. None of them would have treated him nearly as well in this situation as Thrawn made sure to. On the plus side, perhaps, none of them would have been so utterly tempting and teasing. Tonight, the Grand Admiral seemed to have no qualms about pulling Pellaeon close against that hard, trim body, and resting his hands on his hips as though they knew each other _intimately_.

It was beyond distracting, and it was almost enough to make Pellaeon want to drag him off to a dark corner for awhile. On the rare occasion Thrawn wasn't touching him, Pellaeon found himself wanting it, and that was very definitely against regulations. Fraternization was so off-limits that Pellaeon immediately wanted to formally discipline himself for the thought. If Thrawn found out the path his thoughts kept taking, he was definitely going to be demoted. He would deserve it, for not being able to control this on-again, off-again attraction for his superior. As Thrawn's second-in-command, Pellaeon needed to be detached and able to make decisions and question his insane methods without emotion interfering, and if this looked like it was going to get in the way, Pellaeon knew he was going to have to resign his position and ask for a transfer to a different ship. If he waited for Thrawn to react to the news, Pellaeon wouldn't be able to transfer with his dignity and reputation intact.

He would miss his ship, of course, and his friends. The _Chimaera_ was his home and the crew was his family, but if it was best for Thrawn and the Empire, Pellaeon would do what he must, regardless of the way the thought made his chest ache.

Some of what he was thinking must have showed on his face, because Thrawn looked down at him with a considering expression when he was between conversations. After a moment of silent deliberation, Thrawn chose to whisk Pellaeon out onto the dance floor so they could have a private conversation. It wasn't very helpful, because now they were close _and_ Thrawn was moving against him. As much as he enjoyed having the man so close all of a sudden...

“What is it?” Thrawn asked quietly. “You have this look on your face like I asked you to fly your ship into the nearest sun with all of your crew still aboard.”

How the hell was he supposed to talk about – or explain – the problem? “I'm not sure how to discuss it,” Pellaeon admitted after a moment. “And this really isn't the place for it. It won't interfere with my duties here.”

Thrawn looked as though he was considering pressing the point, but let it go, much to Pellaeon's relief. “Very well,” he said, and Pellaeon strongly hoped that was that. He really didn't want to be interrogated about it later. More than anything save loyalty, Thrawn valued and rewarded honesty in his subordinates, but Pellaeon simply wasn't sure how he could be honest about this with Thrawn. It seemed rather disrespectful to even have these thoughts, let alone discuss them with the subject of them.

It wasn't brought up again until the event was over and final bids had been placed for the auction and they had returned to their hotel for the night. Thrawn dismissed the Intelligence agents save for the first watch and they retired to the bedroom. Since his refusal to explain at the gala, Thrawn seemed to become a little more attentive and tactile. It was reassuring as much as it was torturous, and Pellaeon had seen no choice but to tolerate it. Whenever he had gotten too overwhelmed by all of it Thrawn had pulled him firmly back to chest, with his hand on his hips. It had the effect of reminding Pellaeon of the calming ritual Thrawn had adopted for the past couple of days of adjusting their clothing, and he was astounded to discover that it even worked in public. 

Pellaeon stood and looked out the window over the city below, trying to get his thoughts in order. The quiet footfalls were just loud enough to warn him that Thrawn was behind him. In the dim light of the room there was no reflection in the glass, but Pellaeon knew what they looked like already when Thrawn hesitantly touched him again, seeming to pick up that Pellaeon's change in mood had something to do with him. This time those strong arms wrapped around him instead of Thrawn settling his hands on Pellaeon's hips, holding him close, though not so tight Pellaeon couldn't break out of the grip if he needed or wanted to.

Pellaeon sighed, and allowed himself to lean back against the Grand Admiral. Thrawn turned him after a moment to look at him properly, trying to figure the problem out for himself. If only he didn't look so genuinely concerned, the captain thought he might have been able to make himself hold his tongue. That wasn't the case, and Thrawn did look genuinely worried, enough that Pellaeon felt guilty withholding the truth. No. If he lied and Thrawn found out later, it wouldn't matter how worried he was now. Thrawn was consistent about punishing those who dared lie to him rather harshly, and Pellaeon had no desire to be executed.

“If you take the eye inserts out, I'll tell you,” Pellaeon relented. Fear of the consequences made it feel like his heart was sinking in his chest, and a strange ache seemed to overtake his torso. He sat on the edge of the bed while Thrawn removed the inserts into their little case before coming and sitting next to him. 

They looked at each other for a moment, the familiar eyes putting him more at ease. “You look like you expect me to have you executed,” Thrawn observed. “I doubt you've committed an act of treason, Captain.”

“I haven't,” Pellaeon said, and exhaled. He looked down at his hands. Honesty was easier if he didn't have to see Thrawn's reaction to his confession. “Though I will understand if you wish to demote me or reassign me over this and will support any decision you make on the issue.”

He heard the soft inhale of surprise, and then Thrawn hesitantly reached out to cover Pellaeon's hands with his own. “Whatever it is can't be that bad,” he said quietly. “It would take quite a bit to make me consider that, at least in regards to you.”

Thrawn didn't know what he was thinking, Pellaeon reminded himself, and so refused to let himself be reassured. The “no fraternization” regulation had been one of those strictly enforced since the days of the Old Republic. It had followed Pellaeon for his entire military career, and it had kept him from a promotion twice. Just because he preferred women didn't mean he hadn't found the occasional man too attractive to resist. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and forced himself to meet Thrawn's eyes, at least for a moment. It might, he suspected, be the last time he got to do that.

“I'm...” he hesitated to re-consider his phrasing. If he didn't think Thrawn would find out in some other way and punish him for lying, Pellaeon would have withheld the truth. He knew Thrawn, though, and reminded himself that honesty was his best chance at getting out of this with at least some shred of dignity remaining. “I'm attracted to you. Distractingly so.” Pellaeon looked away, afraid to see Thrawn's reaction. In all honesty, he was expecting to be demoted on the spot, or to face some sort of anger – likely the terrifying, cold anger he'd seen on occasion from Thrawn. He wasn't expecting Thrawn to cup his chin and turn his head to look at him.

“Good,” he said simply, as though that settled it and everything was absolutely fine.

Pellaeon blinked, then frowned. What the hell kind of a reaction was that? “Sir?” he asked, puzzled by the reaction to the confession. 

Thrawn's thumb stroked over his cheek. “I said it was good. Very good. Excellent is a better word.”

He wasn't mad? Pellaeon tilted his head slightly, right into Thrawn's hand. “You aren't angry?”

“No,” Thrawn answered. Now he looked puzzled. “Should I be?”

“It's very much against regulation,” Pellaeon pointed out, still rather obviously confused about Thrawn's confusion.

It seemed to clear up the confusion for the Grand Admiral. His eyes widened as he realized what Pellaeon meant, and then he further bemused the captain by chuckling softly. “Ah. See, but there's a way around that you seem to be forgetting,” Thrawn informed him. “I'm the highest-ranking authority in the Empire now. That means I make the rules, and I get to alter any regulations I deem stupid, useless, or non-beneficial to our cause.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you've altered the longest-standing regulation in the Fleet?”

Thrawn smiled and looked rather pleased with himself. “It's my Empire,” he reminded Pellaeon. “So long as it isn't interfering with the duties of the personnel in question, I see no harm in it. I propose that it could make our men more efficient in the long term, as it may improve their happiness.” He leaned in, touched their foreheads together. “It would certainly improve mine.”

“You changed the regulation and dragged me here with the ulterior motive of seducing me, didn't you?” Pellaeon asked flatly, wondering if he should be flattered and impressed or just flat-out annoyed.

“That wasn't my only motivation,” Thrawn answered. His other hand uncovered Pellaeon's and slid over his thigh. “But it was one of my goals.”

Pellaeon shivered at the touch, remembering that Thrawn knew exactly what he was wearing. This shrewd man had ever picked out the undergarments and decorated him in expensive clothing and jewelry. “The crossdressing?” he asked as Thrawn's hand slid back up his thigh to rest on his hip.

“You're one of the most well-known and well-respected men in the Imperial Fleet. I needed a disguise that would make you completely unrecognizable.” Thrawn smiled at him. “Of course, this also provided the chance to take you out of your comfort zone, to give you the chance to take off the weight of your command for awhile... and, perhaps, to spoil you somewhat. I so rarely get the chance to do that with anyone.”

With a disbelieving look on his face, Pellaeon pulled away a little. “And getting to pick out every stitch of clothing had nothing to do with it?”

Thrawn had the good grace to look just slightly ashamed at being called out on something so kinky. “It might have had a little to do with it,” he admitted after a moment. “Are you questioning my taste?”

“I'm questioning your taste in underwear.”

The Grand Admiral snorted. “You're wearing them, aren't you? I chose them based on what I know of your taste. Tell me, Captain, have been enjoying the thought that I know what you're wearing? You were hard earlier, when I was teasing your hips. Was that part of it?”

So he'd noticed. Pellaeon looked away, cheeks flushed. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “A little.”

“You know better than to try to lie to me, Captain,” Thrawn chastised. “I slid my finger right over the hem of them and you shivered against me. Were you even aware that you did it, or were you so focused on not making a noise that you forgot to not react to that?” 

In mimicry of the way he'd done it earlier, Thrawn trailed the fingertips of the hand at his hip over the hem of them again, and then part of the leg hole. Pellaeon closed his eyes and shivered, feeling his body react strongly to the touch this time. “No,” he breathed.

“I chose them because I knew you'd like them, and because I want to see what you would look like in them with your cock hard and aching.” Pellaeon bit his bottom lip and let himself lean forward to rest his head on Thrawn's shoulder. “I want to have you under me still in that expensive dress and all that jewelry, and I want to mouth your cock through your panties – if you'll let me. I've always considered the rules to be more like guidelines, and I'm a man who is very much used to having to work hard for what he wants. You know that.”

Oh, well, if that's what Thrawn wanted... “Okay,” he breathed, and looked up at Thrawn.

“Okay?” he asked. “I'm afraid you'll have to clarify.”

When was he going to get a chance to try this again? Thrawn was willing to alter the rules to make this work, and his stated goals for tonight were undeniably enticing. With Thrawn it was certain to be an interesting night. Pellaeon could satisfy his curiosity now and worry about their working relationship in the morning – that was going to happen whether or not they had sex tonight. “You can do it. I'm willing to try it.”

“Excellent,” Thrawn murmured, and slid his hand a little higher up Pellaeon's thigh. “Very good, Captain.”

“Gilad,” he corrected with a huff. “Don't call me by my rank in bed, not while I'm wearing this.”

Thrawn laughed softly. “Thrawn, then.”

Pellaeon nodded, and reached up to grab Thrawn's fine overcoat, and pulled him in for a kiss. As first kisses went, it was pretty good – and made better when Thrawn wrapped his arms around Pellaeon to lower him down onto the bed. Thrawn pulled away long enough to tug off the overcoat and drape it over the seat at the foot of the bed, and then he was back, inching Pellaeon's dress up enough to settle between his legs without damaging the fabric. Pellaeon tugged him down for another kiss, and if the first kiss had only been “pretty good” the second one was exponentially better. Thrawn was a skilled and attentive kisser, and when he discovered something Pellaeon liked, he exploited it. His bottom lip was expertly bit and sucked on, and Thrawn let Pellaeon draw his tongue into his mouth to suck on it.

It was unbelievably hot, especially when the only part of Thrawn that looked like him was his eyes. To Pellaeon, it almost looked like fucking a stranger, and he wondered if that was part of the appeal to Thrawn as well. His fingers fumbled with the tricky buttons of the tunic, but eventually Pellaeon had it opened and out of the way. He let it drop to the floor as he closed his eyes and slid his fingers over the skin beneath him. If only the damn dye hadn't been there; Pellaeon wanted to know what Thrawn really looked like during sex, if his skin was the same shade of pale blue all over, or if parts of it changed like a Human's did with exposure to sunlight.

Thrawn hiked the long black dress up around Pellaeon's thighs. He ignored the stockings and the garter holding them in place at first to slide his large hands over the exposed skin of Pellaeon's thighs. When his fingertips brushed over the skin, Pellaeon broke the kiss with a gasp, and that was, apparently, all the encouragement Thrawn needed to slide down the bed. That warm, talented mouth started by kissing over the edge of the stockings, then upward along the clips that held them in place. One side was kissed and nipped for a certain amount of time, and then Thrawn would switch to the other side, slowly working his way further up until his nose was bumping Pellaeon's sack.

Acutely aware of the fact that there were Intelligence agents on the other side of the bedroom door, Pellaeon tried his best not to make any noises louder than a gasp, and his considerable willpower was sorely tested when Thrawn mouthed at his testicles through the sheer, lacy panties that covered them. His tongue dragged over them, teasing one, then moving to slide over the other. Pellaeon was so glad he'd had the foresight to use the cream to remove his body hair, especially as Thrawn took one ball into his mouth – panties included – to suck at it. His hands fisted in the sheets and Pellaeon swore under his breath when Thrawn repeated the treatment with the other side and then worked his mouth up higher. 

A quiet moan escaped with those clever lips worked their way up his hard shaft. The tip was poking out over the top of the panties, and Thrawn fairly moaned at the sight of the purple head already leaking a little pre-cum. “Wet for me already?” he asked, and indulged himself in sliding his tongue through the liquid gathered there. The sound Thrawn made was one Pellaeon associated with good food, or a delicious meal, and hearing that come from a man who had just lapped up his fluids like a cat...

The tongue pressed briefly into his slit, and Pellaeon's hips arched of their own accord, and then Thrawn was moving away again. He licked his way down the underside of the shaft, then back up, pausing to suck now and then or to lick and kiss over his balls. The lace was in the way of most of the sensation and it drove Pellaeon up a wall within a handful of minutes. He badly wanted them off to feel Thrawn's mouth on him properly, but it felt _so damn good_ to be teased like that.

“Thrawn!” he gasped, as the alien turned his head to nip at the inside of his thigh. 

“I think one day I'd like to see if I can't make you come from just this,” Thrawn said, tone casual and annoyingly amused. He hooked his thumbs into the band at the top and tugged the panties down. “But for now, I think I'd like a proper taste.”

Pellaeon wasn't going to say no, especially when it turned out that Thrawn could definitely take him all the way into his throat. Aside from the occasional “professional”, none of his lovers had been able to manage that. He'd just begun to wonder if it was the slight differences in their physiology that made it possible when Thrawn made a strange noise in his throat. It vibrated the head of his cock in such a pleasing way that he nearly came down Thrawn's throat right then and there. Likely sensing the impending release, Thrawn pulled away and pressed his thumb and forefinger against the underside of his cock and squeezed gently to edge him back down, until Pellaeon signaled that he was okay again.

“Perhaps we should get this dress and scarf off of you,” Thrawn murmured. “Sit up, Gilad.”

He did as asked, then stood when nudged. Thrawn stood behind him, and gently unpinned and unwound the scarf from his head, and set it aside. The wig he left on, as well as the jewelry, but he unzipped the dress so Pellaeon could step out of it. He felt a little silly wearing a wig, jewelry worth at least one planet, and a garter belt and stockings, but only until he got a good look at Thrawn's face. His commander looked beyond aroused, and beyond entranced: Thrawn was looking at Pellaeon as though he was the only piece of art left in the universe. It was a look Pellaeon had seen on his face once, and only once, when they'd recovered the _Kilik Twilight_ on Tattoine. 

Flattered by the attention, he let Thrawn look his fill, let himself be turned and admire from the rear for a moment before Thrawn turned him again and drew him into another kiss. This one was no less passionate than the others, but there seemed to be something else in it, something Pellaeon couldn't quite put his finger on or a name to. 

“Beautiful,” Thrawn praised when their lips parted. 

A hand grasped Pellaeon's spit-soaked cock to stroke it, and he pressed a little closer to Thrawn. It was high time he got a chance to tease back. His fingers worked at Thrawn's trousers to open them and draw him out, and Pellaeon gave his member an experimental squeeze. Thrawn moaned softly against his lips, and Pellaeon pulled away to sink to his knees. Despite the dim lighting, at this close distance Pellaeon could see that the skin dye did not go all the way down. The blood rushing into the pale-blue skin made Thrawn's cock look a darker purple than his own, but it was beautiful. It was Human-shaped, and a very generous size, and there was no resisting it. 

Pellaeon gave it another stroke with his hand, licked his lips, and then looked up into those glowing red eyes as he leaned forward and kissed the tip. Reverently, Pellaeon lapped at the dick in his hand. He couldn't fit the tip into his mouth, but that didn't mean he couldn't still pay attention to the whole of it. Using his hand to hold the heavy member wherever he wanted it, Pellaeon licked over it with his tongue, kissed it like a lover, and moved his lips up and down the length of it to suck it here and there. Though he wasn't as observant as Thrawn, Pellaeon was quite skilled at paying attention to detail, and he used that to his advantage. If Thrawn liked something he did it again – including kissing over his testicles and sucking lightly on them. Whatever he wasn't paying attention to with his mouth, Pellaeon stroked with his hand.

After several minutes, he heard Thrawn gasp something in a language Pellaeon didn't recognize, and then Thrawn stepped away to tug him to his feet. They kissed again, hard and hungry, and Pellaeon registered Thrawn pulling something out of his trouser pocket before was stepping out of them and pushing Pellaeon back onto the bed. He moved toward the pillows, tugged Thrawn with him, not wanting to break the kiss. The other man obliged, and kissed him deeply as he opened what sounded like a tube. 

The sound was familiar enough that Pellaeon was pretty sure he knew what it was. He spread his legs wider, let Thrawn slide a slick finger into him. If it wasn't for Thrawn's tongue in his mouth, Pellaeon was sure he would have made enough noise to send the agents to the door to check on them at the sensation of being penetrated. Just because a room was supposed to sound-proof didn't mean it actually was, after all, and this was probably the last thing he wanted concerned guards walking in on.

Thrawn worked him open, and Pellaeon kept one hand on the back of Thrawn's head and the other wrapped around his cock, stroking it to tease until Thrawn was ready to take him. He gently brushed Pellaeon's hand away to stroke the lube over his cock while Pellaeon watched hungrily. Ready, Thrawn gently moved Pellaeon's legs so that his feet were resting against his shoulder, and pushed in. Initially, Pellaeon thought it wasn't going to fit. The head of Thrawn's cock was thick, and he struggled to relax around it. Once the head breached him it was easier, and Pellaeon's breaths came in gasps and quiet moans as Thrawn sank into him. 

Balls-deep inside him, Thrawn carefully lowered Pellaeon's legs out of the way so he wouldn't be bending him in half, and leaned forward to kiss him. He wrapped a hand around Pellaeon's cock, stroking it in such a way that the head occasionally brushed over the soft lace of the garter belt, making him shiver. Thrawn didn't move for a long moment, and Pellaeon appreciated the chance to adjust as it had been quite awhile since he'd last done this. Beneath him, the captain shifted, carefully working Thrawn's cock into a better position inside him. The movement made Thrawn gasp against his lips, and Pellaeon found he quite liked that sound. Tentatively, he squeezed his muscles around Thrawn's dick, testing the waters, so to speak.

It made the heavy cock brush over his prostate gland in just the right way that Pellaeon gasped and his toes curled against Thrawn's ass. He broke the kiss, moved his lips to kiss over Thrawn's shoulder, and gripped his ass with both hands. “Okay,” he murmured. “You can move.”

Thrawn didn't need to be told twice. At first, his movements were small, only a centimeter or two at a time each way, giving Pellaeon time to get used to having a dick moving inside of him. It was helpful, but damn teasing. “Are you okay?” Thrawn asked into his neck after a few minutes. “I'm not hurting you am I?”

Pellaeon shook his head, let out a quiet moan into Thrawn's shoulder as he rolled his hips forward in a way that felt particularly pleasant. “I'm fine,” he managed, and squeezed a little with his legs. “You can move more than that.”

A soft brush of lips over his made him smile a little, and then Thrawn obeyed. This time he pulled nearly all the way out. “Like this?” he asked.

If Thrawn would just push in more than a couple centimeters before pulling back out, Pellaeon would have said yes. He nearly rubbed against Pellaeon's prostate, making him tighten in anticipation, before pulling away. Their eyes met, and Thrawn smirked at him. Pellaeon tried to push him deeper with his legs and hands, but Thrawn grabbed his hands and pinned them over his head, though he was mindful of the expensive fire diamond bracelets on Pellaeon's wrists. “Thrawn!” he gasped, not sure what he was feeling or how to handle it. Being fucked in womens' lingerie was odd enough to try to process – having the use of his hands taken away just doubled the strangeness of the situation.

“Hmm?” the Warlord asked, and rocked his hips in just a little farther, enough to make Pellaeon's eyes close as he tried very hard not to cry out loudly. “You're trembling beneath me, Gilad. Do you have any idea how perfect you look like this, covered in expensive works of art and taking my cock so well?”

Did he? Pellaeon's hands flexed, and he tried to break Thrawn's hold, but the man's iron grip couldn't be budged. What else was he physically capable of? A quiet whimper escaped as Thrawn slowly pressed all the way in, then pulled away again. Could Thrawn easily manhandle him during sex?

The answer to that last question, it turned out, would come sooner than Pellaeon had anticipated. Thrawn teased him that way for a few minutes more, then withdrew completely. A quiet protest was out of his mouth before Pellaeon could stop it, but Thrawn ended it with a swift, sweet kiss. “On your stomach,” he ordered, and released Pellaeon's hands to move him himself when the captain didn't comply fast enough for him. 

Being manhandled was somehow much more arousing than he had anticipated, especially when Thrawn pulled him up onto his knees, and lowered his face to the pillow with a hand on his upper back. The position left his ass open and exposed, up in the air where Thrawn could view it or do with it as he pleased. Thrawn reached for the lube, opened the tube again, and drizzled some more of it into Pellaeon's ass. The cool liquid made him shiver, especially when it was contrasted with the warmth of Thrawn's fingers. Three of them easily pressed into him, spreading the lube and teasing for a moment before Thrawn was up on his knees and pushing back in.

This position was easier on him, Pellaeon thought, and made it easier to take Thrawn in. It certainly seemed to give Thrawn better leverage for moving, because he wasted no time in setting up a pace that was delicious in its intensity. His hands gripped Pellaeon's hips tightly over the garter belt and he rocked the Human back against him to meet his thrusts. It was so much harder to be quiet in this position, because now the underside of Thrawn's cock was rubbing over his prostate in a way that felt beyond perfect as it applied just the right amount of pressure. There was no way he was going to last long, not like this.

Maybe Thrawn felt the same way. He shifted a hand under Pellaeon's chest, guiding him upright so that Thrawn was sitting on his heels and Pellaeon was resting back against him. It brought their bodies closer together, and Thrawn used the new closeness to tease and suck on Pellaeon's neck and shoulders, marking him carefully in places that wouldn't be visible under his uniform. One hand lingered on his chest, holding him close and teasing his nipples, and the other found his cock again and stroked it.

“I want you to cum for me, Gilad,” he said, lips brushing lightly against the back of Pellaeon's neck. “I want to watch you come apart like this, in the lingerie and the jewels, while I'm fucking into you.”

If he kept that sort of dirty talk up, Thrawn was definitely going to get his wish. Pellaeon shivered, and pressed back harder, half-riding Thrawn's cock with abandon. He could feel the pleasure building to a breaking point inside him, in the way his balls drew upward, and his mind was half-fogged from want. All that mattered was their release right now – and that the agents outside the door didn't hear him. Thrawn slid his thumb over the slit again, and it was all over for Pellaeon.

His whole body tightened as he came with a soft hiss, and he lifted one arm behind his head to hold onto Thrawn's hair and reached the other around to grip at him. The relentless stroking of his cock through his orgasm coupled with the harder pounding from Thrawn made it last longer than he thought it would. Thrawn followed suit a couple of moments later and Pellaeon let himself be fucked through his commander's orgasm as well, fascinated by the feeling of his seed already starting to drip back out of him around Thrawn's cock. The consistency and volume seemed to be just slightly different from that of a Human male. As though to provide a better comparison, the Grand Admiral wiped his hand on Pellaeon's chest, rubbing the cum into his skin like lotion and murmuring into his ear how _divine_ he looked like that, with the cum all over him and on the large, thick necklace.

They rested in that position for a moment, with Thrawn holding tightly onto Pellaeon, still inside his body, and kissing sweetly over his shoulders under it was no longer comfortable. When he needed to move, he gently pushed Pellaeon back to his hands and knees and pulled out of him. It felt strange; when the thick cock was gone, he was surprisingly aware of a strange, empty sort of ache in his ass that wasn't really alleviated by the cum Thrawn had left inside him. Pellaeon had never really felt like he needed anything in particular so strongly as he felt he needed Thrawn's cock back inside him.

“Why don't we get you cleaned up?” Thrawn said, sliding off the bed. Pellaeon accepted help to stand and walk into the bathroom, and Thrawn stopped him in front of the mirror. Cum slid down his thighs and into the stockings still held up by the garter, and he shivered. 

“Look at you,” he murmured into Pellaeon's ear as he wrapped his arms around his waist. “You've got cum all over your chest and your necklace. You look completely wrecked.”

Pellaeon blushed and leaned back against him. The only part of himself he really recognized in the mirror was his cock. Thrawn was right about how he looked: the wig was in complete disarray, the jewelry knocked out of place, and some of his semen had landed on the necklace that was probably work a million or more credits on its own. He looked exhausted and sated, and for once, he didn't mind the way the garter belt or stockings looked on his body. Thrawn certainly seemed fond of it, in the way his fingers reverently traced over the edges of the belt and the tops of the stockings. 

Thrawn pressed a kiss to his cheek, and moved to unstrap and remove the garter. He bent, rolled the stockings down Pellaeon's thighs, and lapped up the cum that had dripped down the inside of his thighs as he helped the captain step out of his stockings. Pellaeon shivered, watched as Thrawn licked his way back up and placed a soft kiss over the sensitive head of his cock before pulling away to turn on the shower. 

“Let me clean you up,” he offered, and helped Pellaeon into the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession time! I've never written crossdressing porn before! Surprise!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pellaeon took a deep breath. He'd been giving thought to this off and on all day, and was fairly certain he had the list perfectly ordered in his mind. “The Empire and the safety of the people under our protection has to come first. Billions of lives depend on you, and that can't be compromised, especially with our territory expanding by the day. I won't be the thing that distracts you from it or compromises your ability to do your job.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's only implied sex in this chapter. Just a bit of dialogue to wrap it up in the same way Thrawn didn't wrap his dick last night.

Waking up the next morning after an additional round of shower sex was interesting. They fell asleep with Pellaeon's head on Thrawn's shoulder and Pellaeon woke to Thrawn pressed flush against his back, his cock pressing into his ass, and lips working over the back of his neck. Thrawn had a hand on his left hip, kneading at the skin. Pellaeon moaned softly at the feeling of warm skin on his own, and half-turned his head to look at Thrawn. “Good morning,” he mumbled. 

The hand on his hip moved over to his half-hard cock to stroke it. “Good morning,” Thrawn replied into his shoulder blade. “I thought we might make the most of our time off the ship.” He emphasized his point by pressing his hips forward so that his cock slid against Pellaeon. 

Pellaeon gasped. Well, he was awake now. “A brilliant decision,” he murmured and canted his hips forward into Thrawn's hand. “I like it.”

“Do you want me to take you again?” Thrawn asked, his lips now against the shell of Pellaeon's ear.

A twist of Thrawn's wrist had Pellaeon gasping. “Yes,” he managed, and swallowed hard. Thrawn pulled his hand and hips away to uncap the lube. Pellaeon listened as he stroked it over himself, and then put his fingers to good use by working the captain open again. Fortunately, he was relaxed and tired, and it didn't take much work before Thrawn bent his left leg into a position that opened him further and slipped himself inside.

Sex in this position was slow and lazy, with Thrawn leisurely caressing Pellaeon as he took his time thrusting into him. They had just finished and were prying themselves out of bed when the intercom pinged. “Grand Admiral Thrawn? Sir, you requested to be woken up at 0700.” It was Lieutenant Ral.

Thrawn hit the intercom. “Thank you, Lieutenant. We're awake.”

“You're welcome, sir.” He turned off the intercom and turned to the captain.

“If we shower together I imagine it will take longer to get ready,” Thrawn said, giving Pellaeon a smile. “Why don't you go first?”

Pellaeon had to agree. “Yes, sir,” he said, and pulled himself away from the bed to get cleaned up. It was their last day on the planet, and despite how tired he felt, there were things Thrawn wanted to do today. It would be the last day he was free to stick so close to the Grand Admiral.

As he showered, Pellaeon worried over what life would be like when they returned to the _Chimaera_. Would they continue with this in private, or would it be something that needed to be put on hold until the war was over with? Was this a thing of convenience to Thrawn? If the no fraternization regulation was altered, did that mean they were free to be more open about this? There would likely be political ramifications, and Pellaeon had to wonder if this would negatively affect their command authority.

There was also the matter of promotions. If Thrawn was ever to promote him – unlikely, Pellaeon suspected, since he'd been a captain for quite a long time now – would anybody believe it was on his own merit? Would Pellaeon? Thrawn wasn't the sort of leader to promote someone because of personal relationships, but that didn't mean people wouldn't talk. Pellaeon was highly respected at the moment, by both his fellow officers and the soldiers and midshipmen who made up the lower ranks. It was going to make things complicated, but he knew Thrawn knew what he was doing. He would have to trust his lover to do what was best, whether it was continuing their sexual relationship openly, in private, or setting it aside when they returned.

He'd been in the shower long enough, he decided, when thinking about the possible outcomes was enough to make his heart ache a little. Pellaeon turned off the water and began to mentally prepare himself to spend one more day in the fancy clothes and jewels Thrawn was so enjoying providing for him.

– – – 

The rest of their stay on the planet was uneventful, and Pellaeon was terribly excited to be leaving with their mission successfully completed and the artwork in question in tow. Thrawn was pleased, and that was what mattered, really. The ride back to the rendezvous point with the _Chimaera_ was nine hours long, and both of them used the first two hours of the trip to scrub off any lingering makeup or skin dye. Pellaeon felt much more comfortable and self-assured now that he was back in his uniform, despite the fact that Thrawn had quietly requested in passing that he keep the panties on underneath it for the day. He hoped that meant there would be a repeat of last night later.

The Intelligence agents were exhausted, and Thrawn dismissed them to the small bunks aboard the ship to sleep, leaving just the two of them awake and in charge of the ship. There wasn't really much to do in hyperspace, and up here they could spend the remaining hours of their voyage in conversation without having to worry about being overheard. Sitting up straight and going off of formalities didn't seem to be a priority for either of them right now – Thrawn was comfortably slouched in the pilot's seat, Pellaeon in the copilot's. The first hour and a half of their privacy had been spent with Thrawn debriefing Pellaeon and instructing him on what to omit from his written report later on. Neither of them wanted anyone beyond themselves and the six Intelligence agents knowing about Pellaeon's disguise.

Now, they were sitting and looking at each other, each taking the other in. Pellaeon was glad to see Thrawn looking more like himself, even if the dye had refused to wash out of his hair. The solid black wasn't too much of a change from the blue highlights, and that was the only thing that was different. As much as Thrawn's alien appearance could intimidate him, it was better than seeing him looking like some stranger. Pellaeon decided to wait and let Thrawn break the silence, more than content to enjoy the peaceful company, though they did need to actually discuss this before they got back to their ship. The chance of actually having a peaceful conversation when they returned was drastically reduced by the day-to-day demands of running a ship for Pellaeon, and an Empire for Thrawn.

“I've been giving some thought to last night, and my intentions in bringing you along. If you're amenable to it, I would like to continue this.” Thrawn was looking at him seriously. “It's rare that I find someone I trust so much, and rarer still that there's a mutual attraction.”

Pellaeon studied him as he considered how to reply. Thrawn appreciated honesty, and Pellaeon knew he owed it to the man. “I would as well, but I have some concerns regarding our positions. You've probably taken them all into account, but I'd like to be certain.” 

The small smile he got from the Grand Admiral told Pellaeon he'd called it correctly. “I suspected you would be worried about our positions, and unsure about whether or not we should be discreet.” Thrawn tilted his head slightly. “Was I correct?”

“Yes. I'm sure there would be consequences for any decision, and I do trust you to do what's best, especially in regard to the Empire.”

“Ah, but this isn't just my decision. It involves your personal and professional life as well, and I absolutely demand equality in our personal relationship so long as we're lovers.” Thrawn shifted into a more comfortable position in his seat. “I trust you to make decisions as well.”

That was reassuring. Pellaeon glanced down at Thrawn's hand when something caught his eye, and noted the Grand Admiral still hadn't taken off his ring. Neither had Pellaeon – it had genuinely slipped his mind – and he didn't want to say anything about it now and interrupt this all-important discussion for something else. One step at a time was going to be the best way to take this.

“Thank you,” he said, giving Thrawn a smile of his own. “In the case, perhaps we should make certain our priorities match?”

“I agree,” Thrawn replied. “What is your top priority, Gilad?”

Pellaeon took a deep breath. He'd been giving thought to this off and on all day, and was fairly certain he had the list perfectly ordered in his mind. “The Empire and the safety of the people under our protection has to come first. Billions of lives depend on you, and that can't be compromised, especially with our territory expanding by the day. I won't be the thing that distracts you from it or compromises your ability to do your job.”

Thrawn's smile was fond enough that it made Pellaeon look away for a second to gather himself and control the way his stomach fluttered at the sight. “I agree entirely,” Thrawn said, “but I know you won't be. If you distract me, it will be because you know I need a temporary distraction, to not think about things for a couple of hours, so I can focus better again later. I daresay you're more likely to ignore your own needs for the sake of not doing anything you perceive as getting in my way.”

“Probably,” Pellaeon admitted. “My loyalty to you, to the Fleet, and to your Empire would prevent that, and if I'm worrying about being in your way, I can hardly focus on running your flagship properly.”

“Then it's fortunate that you are my second priority. I won't let you ignore your emotional or physical needs. I need you running at optimal efficiency, and you can hardly do that if you're distracted. You're going to have to trust me to tell you if you're becoming a distraction.”

That was a reasonable request. A nod of his head showed his agreement to that. “I also worry that there are some who will see it as favoritism and may try to mutiny.”

That surprised Thrawn a little. One black eyebrow raised at the point. “Are suggesting we try to sneak around about this? There's no way we'd be able to hide it forever, not on a ship that big, and not with such a close-knit command staff.”

“I worry about the political ramifications, and we both know what damage rumors can cause.”

C'baoth's little rumor-mill campaign to undermine Thrawn's authority had gone quite well, after all. It had taken ages to bring the confidence and morale of the _Chimaera's_ crew back up to acceptable levels after that and Bilbringi. 

Thrawn shook his head. “I disagree. If we're forthright about it, then I foresee minimal problems. Acting like we're ashamed or we have something to hide isn't going to do us any good in the long-term. I also feel that demanding honesty from my subordinates and then turning around and hiding something like that from them will create a backlash that will be significantly distracting from the attainment of our goals. We already have all the political support we need and our finances are once again stable and substantial. The Empire is in a good position both politically and militarily to begin working more aggressively at good public relations, which means showing the people that we're also people.”

“You mean using whichever direction we decided to take our relationship to show them that they can relate to us?” They couldn't, not after so many decades spent in military service, but the general public didn't need to know that. The Moffs Thrawn had handpicked for their loyalty didn't need to know either. Personally, Pellaeon didn't trust any of them any farther than he could throw them, and it had nothing to do with the fact that, for the first time in the history of the Galactic Empire, two-thirds of those Moffs were non-Humans. Some of them just seemed so shifty-eyed and a few of them had ties to Fringe elements that Thrawn was fond of exploiting and Pellaeon just hated to deal with.

But this was an Empire where loyalty directly to their leader was rewarded as well as honesty, and Thrawn wouldn't have picked them unless he was planning to set them up to fail – which meant that either way the appointments went in Thrawn's favor. The Council of Moffs answered directly to him now, making Thrawn the Emperor in all but name, and it was important the people learn to trust him and love him before he was given the title. The worlds formerly held by the Rebellion would probably respond excellently to something like their relationship. As far as family-oriented and love-centered cultures went, Pellaeon could think of a couple dozen that would go nuts for the perceived romance of their relationship.

“Precisely. That is not, of course, my primary motivation in pursuing you, but it is too convenient a bonus to not take advantage of it.” Thrawn reached over to touch Pellaeon's knee. “All that aside, I hesitate to just flat-out announce it to the crew when we're still working everything out ourselves, and I do not want to announce it before I announce something else.”

Pellaeon took Thrawn's hand, let his thumb brush over the ring. “What is that?” he asked.

Thrawn took a deep breath. “I've been planning to do this for some time, but it seems like something always manages to get in the way. You've earned this entirely on your own and I want to be absolutely clear that last night and this morning had no bearing on my decision to promote you to Rear Admiral, and to make your position as my second-in-command completely official.”

His jaw dropped, and Pellaeon sat in silence for a long moment, just looking at his lover in surprise. Him? Rear Admiral? “I... Thank you,” he said, not able to come up with anything else just yet while his mind processed the unexpected news.

A soft chuckle was Thrawn's response to his reaction. “Your previous commanders held you back for far too long,” Thrawn stated. “With your skills and leadership abilities you ought to have made Rear Admiral years ago.”

“And yet it took you two years to do it.”

“You had to learn to trust me first. I rarely give out promotions, and I've been told by more than one subordinate that I'm difficult to work under and sometimes completely unreasonable in how much information I withhold on any topic. Captain Niriz has told me more than once that I'm a miser when it comes to sharing knowledge and that he's spent more than one night ranting to his immediate superior in frustration.” Thrawn's smile was fond again, but it wasn't the same way he had looked at Pellaeon. There was something almost fatherly about it, he thought. “I think one day I shall have to take you to the Unknown Regions and formally introduce you to them, but that will keep for now. Some things shouldn't be discussed within a five hundred kilometer radius of an Imperial Intelligence agent and there are six of them aboard. “

Pellaeon laughed softly at that. “Too true. Very well. I accept your promotion, so long as you're not insisting I leave the _Chimaera_.”

Thrawn shook his head. “You'll be working as my personal assistant. I imagine I'll have to spend quite a lot of time alone with you. I may even need to hold discussions with you after work hours in my quarters.” He smirked. “In fact, I think that tonight I will definitely need to discuss something with you privately. Some of your curiosity still needs to be satisfied, after all.”

“I hope you don't plan on trying to put me in another dress,” he commented with a raised eyebrow. “I've had quite enough of that.”

“And yet you're still wearing the panties, aren't you?”

A blush colored his cheeks at the comment. “It was the way you asked me to leave them on.”

“I'll make it worth it for you after evening meal. Then, in the morning, I'll formally announce your promotion and the promotion of Captain Quenton and Commander Ardiff.”

Ah, so that was who Thrawn had picked to fill his former position. Well, Quenton was the most experienced of his bridge officers, and the raw talent was there with Ardiff. They both just needed a bit of honing. Pellaeon nodded his acceptance of those plans.

Thrawn shifted his hand slightly in Pellaeon's grip. “In a month or so, perhaps, we can announce our involvement, but I'd rather wait until we're more comfortable with the adjustments ourselves and have the answers to the questions that will be thrown at us. It will also help us to wait until our soldiers and crew have become more accustomed to the changes in regulations and the chain of command. Why?”

Of course he would still find a way to teach. Thrawn would have made an excellent academy instructor. Pellaeon thought it over, considered Thrawn's wording... “If there are too many changes at once, the military and civilians might perceive it as instability.”

“Correct,” Thrawn smiled. “Though I would argue with your choice of wording – enough would see it as instability to intentionally cause problems.”

“And we can't afford those problems when we're finally nearing the end of this war.”

Thrawn brought Pellaeon's hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “Correct again.”

“If only we didn't have to care what other people thought.” Pellaeon squeezed his hand, and settled a little more comfortably into his seat.

“Perhaps one day we'll get to retire,” Thrawn said. “But in the meantime, we have a war to return to, and an Empire to run.”

The thought of getting to retire after so many decades of service was a nice thought. Pellaeon let his mind ruminate on the thought for the rest of the trip back to the _Chimaera_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of this one. Thanks for reading! I live off your kudos and comments, so I'm basically dying here. Feel free to leave me prompts anytime at [my writing tumblr](http://ibreathethroughwords.tumblr.com/ask) or [my personal tumblr](http://actual-dilf-erwin-smith.tumblr.com/ask). You can leave them anonymously, I don't even care. I'm very chill Sometimes the fills end up being ridiculously long - and sometimes things don't get filled because I can't think of something or the messages get buried for ten months under my fanmail.
> 
> Next thing on my plate for this weekend (I have no homework for once) as far as writing goes is chapter 8 of Rise of the Titans. I will also be starting a "what-if" fic that might be crack, because I'm too intrigued by the idea of Thrawn successfully managing to make a tiny toddler clone of C'baoth and then not finding anyone who can handle giving that shit a "proper upbringing" or however he phrased it to Pellaeon in TLC.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got some new RP blogs. You should check them out and send me asks, even anonymously if you must:
> 
> [Ask-the-Empire](http://ask-the-empire.tumblr.com). Ask it anything you want!  
> [RP blog for Captain Pellaeon](http://captain-pellaeon.tumblr.com). Asks, RPs, gardening.  
> [RP blog for Grand Admiral Thrawn](http://greatest-military-mind.tumblr.com). Art, asks, RPs.


End file.
